Walking Tall-ish

I am tall and appear relatively fit. Scrupulously staying out of the sun and watching my diet also helps me to appear younger than my (gasp) 60+ years.  But I’ve had numerous surgeries for orthopedic issues--cervical spine, two carpal tunnel releases, a tendon release for tennis elbow, and am planning additional surgery to remove bone spurs in both shoulders dangerously close to my rotator cuffs.  For these reasons, my doctor has advised I limit my exercise to swimming, water aerobics and walking.  Unfortunately I recently acquired a staph infection. Not only has the infection caused me to delay the shoulder surgery but also has kept me from my favorite and safest exercises in water.

So I tried a land-based class, Tuesdays and Thursdays, high noon, at Milestone.  The class is called "Walking Tall" and is designed for people with severe arthritis, recoverers of serious illness, and those who need to ease back into regular exercise.  I thought the latter fit me: the only regular exercise, other than walking the dog, I have been getting is extricating myself from my recliner.

I showed up early for class, expecting some ailing athletes and “young seniors” like myself.  A single very elderly woman had beaten me to the class room.  She showed me the ropes: where to find the mats, the large exercise balls and bands and small hand weights.  She also showed me how to wipe down all my equipment with a disinfecting wipe.  Since I have been exiled from the pool because of the staph infection, likely incurred at the gym according to my doctor, I figured I better pay attention to this disinfection step.

Soon the other class mates were showing up.  We, that is, I and the octo- and older generians, took our places on our mats, following the instructor's directions to stretch, push, lunge and otherwise move our limbs in time to Yanni.  I was happy none of my close friends could see how I was not keeping up with the old-timers.  They stretched their arms and legs, balanced on their large balls, kicked their legs and didn't seem to miss a beat as we switched from one move to the next.  At least I could reach the high shelves to put the mats and balls away.  Many of my classmates were about half my height.

An hour after I got home from my little jaunt to exercise with the elderly I started feeling shooting pain in my right arm.  Apparently I had reactivated the nerve damage thought to be cured by a spinal surgery a few years ago.  


Damn those senior citizens and their flexibility.  And my need to show off that I was able to keep up with them.